Sew This Up With Threads of Reason and Regret
by karatam
Summary: They became friends at age nine, but life got in the way.


**Title**: Sew This Up With Threads of Reason and Regret**  
****Rating**: PG  
**Pairin****g**: Brittany/Rachel  
**Spoilers: **up to 'Special Education'**  
Summary**: They became friends at age nine, but life got in the way.  
**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work of fiction.  
**A/N**: A huge thank you to Kay, who stepped up as a beta for this.

* * *

"Brittany, for the last time, eyes forward and pay attention!"

The voice snapped across the dance studio and Brittany whipped her head around, looking contrite. Madame Ingrid could be really scary, especially since she was losing patience with Brittany.

"Yes, Madame."

And she tried, she really did, but she couldn't help it; the ballet class was just so _boring_. Her eyes drifted back to the window on her right and if she leaned back just a bit while holding onto the bar with her right hand, she could see the group of people clumped together at the edge of the parking lot. There was an old boom box sitting on the ground and Brittany could just imagine feeling the beat of the heavy bass pumping through her body. All around it, dancers were cheering, trying to one up each other with every movement and twist of their bodies.

They weren't confined to the strict black leotards and ballet slippers; they were wearing jeans, sweatpants, sneakers and tank tops. They looked so free and Brittany glanced around to make sure the madame wasn't nearby before leaning even further toward the window. A boy smirked and spun up on his hands, his feet leaving the ground completely in a move that seemed to defy gravity and Brittany couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her.

"Brittany!"

The voice came from behind her this time, and was higher, quieter and kind of shrill. Brittany twisted her head around to see Rachel Berry glaring at her. She knew Rachel well; they had been in the same dance class since they were five. The girl had received almost every solo in every recital since then. They're nine (well, Rachel is still eight because she's _little_), but that's a lot of solos and Brittany isn't even good at math.

"What?" she whispered back.

"Madame was about to look over and I didn't want you to receive punishment, as you are obviously the best dancer in this class besides myself and I need you to be on Madame's good side because it has come to my attention that there will be two solos – though I think that defeats the purpose of a _solo_ – and I refuse to be forced to dance with anyone but the best." Rachel said, taking a deep breath afterwards.

Brittany just blinked at her.

"You, Brittany. I want to dance with you, so you can't get into trouble."

"Oh, okay." Brittany said, smiling widely. Rachel rarely gave compliments, so Brittany knew that this was kind of a big deal. Rachel smiled back and Brittany felt a little warmth in the middle of her chest expanding, making her fingers tingle just a bit. She turned back to the front of the studio and put all her concentration into the graceful movements of her body.

After class finished, Brittany sat in the outer room, carefully lacing up her running shoes. Her tongue was sticking out in her focus and she almost didn't notice the shiny black shoes stop in front of her. "Hey, Brittany?"

Brittany glanced up. "Hey, Rach. Can you remember which way the bunny goes? My fingers keep getting tangled in the laces." Her face dropped into a frown. "I could do them earlier today, why can't I do them now?"

Rachel crouched down in front of her, placing her bedazzled bag on the ground to her left. "You just need to train your hands to do it without thinking about it. You know how you can do most of the routines without having to remember the steps, your body just does it? It'll be like that soon, I promise." She tightened the laces with a flourish, a smile on her face. "There, all done."

"Thanks, Rach!" Brittany scrambled to her feet, looking down at the perfectly knotted laces of her shoes. "You're the awesomest!"

"That's not a word, Brittany." Rachel bit her bottom lip, worrying it slightly. "Um, why do you call me Rach? We don't talk at school."

"That's just because Santana doesn't like talking to most people and she's my bestie. We're friends here, and at school too, so I needed to give you a nickname. Do you not like 'Rach'? I can call you something else, like 'short stuff', if you like. And, oh! You can give me a nickname!" Brittany was nearly vibrating with excitement and Rachel just looked kind of bemused.

"No, 'Rach' is just fine for me. And how about if I call you," Rachel paused, tilting her head, "um, 'Stretch'?" She thought that was quite unoriginal, but Brittany seemed pleased with it, smiling happily.

"That's awesome! And did you really mean it?"

"Mean what, Stretch?"

"That you think I'm a good dancer?"

"Anyone with eyes thinks you're a really good dancer, Brittany, you're a natural. Though I have noticed that you don't seem as into it as you used to in previous years."

Brittany scuffed the ground with the toe of her shoe before saying, "I just don't enjoy ballet as much. I want to try the hip hop classes, but I don't think my mom and dad will let me. It's not _serious_ or something."

"Well, that is ridiculous. All forms of dance are completely legitimate forms of art in their own right and hip hop is no exception. Sure, ballet has a certain reputation, but I think you would perform brilliantly in all other types of dance." Rachel stopped abruptly and a light blush colored her cheeks.

"Can you talk to my parents? It'll sound better than what I would say and I think they'd believe you." A car horn sounded outside and Brittany jumped. "Oh, that's them. I'll see you at school? I'll make Santana talk to you if you want."

Rachel shook her head. "Just you is enough for me, Brittany, thank you."

Brittany shrugged. "Okay, bye Rach!" And then she leaned in a pressed a kiss to Rachel's cheek, feeling the skin under her lips go flaming hot at the touch.

Stammering for a completely out of character moment, Rachel managed to respond, "Bye, Stretch."

Brittany whirled around and ran out of the studio door, blond hair flying. When she got to the door, she turned and waved enthusiastically and Rachel hesitantly waved back. After the car drove away, Brittany twisted around in her seat and saw Rachel still standing there, her hand raised in the air.

/ /

When Rachel walked into school the next day, bright pink lunch box gripped in her small hand, she doesn't know quite what to expect. Brittany had said that they could be friends, but Rachel really was scared of Santana; the girl had kicked her in the shins the first time they met and their opinions of each other hadn't improved since then.

She shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the hook outside the classroom before walking in and sitting at her desk. After pulling out her exercise booklet, she settled down to get some work done before the class filled up with noisy kids. So intent was she on correcting the grammar on her page that she didn't even notice Brittany walking up and plopping down in the seat next to her.

"Hey, Rach!"

Rachel jumped and swung her head around, locking eyes with bright blue ones. "Hello, Brittany."

Brittany looked at her seriously. "Hello, who?"

Unable to hide her grin, Rachel smiled widely. "Hello, Stretch."

"That's better. Oh, I wanted to tell you that Santana refuses to talk to you." Brittany looked rather put out by her own statement. "I even tried pouting, but she said 'Nothing in the world will make me talk to her nicely, and I'm pretty sure she feels the same way anyways.' Do you? Feel the same way, I mean."

"Well, um, the relationship we have _is_ mostly antagonistic." At the mostly blank look she received, she clarified, "We don't really like each other. But that's okay, Brittany. She's your best friend; you can just hang out with her at school and maybe talk to me during dance class?"

Brittany thought it over for a few seconds, turning to look at Santana standing by the coat rack. "Okay," she said slowly, "if you're sure."

"It'll be fine," Rachel said, though she was nowhere near as sure as she sounded. But the smile on Brittany's face made it worth while.

She'd never really had a friend before. Now she had Brittany.

No.

Now she had _Stretch_.

/ /

Brittany peeked out from behind the side curtain, looking out over the semi-darkened auditorium. It was the last dance recital before freshman year of high school started up and Brittany was really hoping to impress the cheerleading coach who was holding court in the back. Rumour was that Coach Sylvester was looking for a new lead dancer and Brittany wanted desperately to get a chance at it.

So all this pressure was making Brittany nervous. She was good, really good, and she knew it, but that knowledge wasn't enough to stop the butterflies in her stomach from making her feel like she was about to throw up. Her muscles were tense and she could feel a headache coming on. She very nearly didn't want to dance at all.

Glancing down at the front row, Brittany caught sight of something that automatically brought a smile to her face. Rachel Berry was sitting in the center-most seat, carefully going over the program with her brow furrowed in concentration. She always came to Brittany's recitals, even though Brittany had switched studios a few years back to one more focused on hip-hop.

Brittany smiled as she remembered Rachel showing up to her door with a six page essay on why hip-hop was a perfectly acceptable alternative for ballet to give to Brittany's parents; they had switched her over the very next day.

Rachel looked up, almost feeling the eyes on her, and swung her head over to where Brittany was hidden behind heavy curtains. She squinted before a grin burst onto her face and she waved enthusiastically. Brittany couldn't do anything but wiggle her fingers in response, not wanting to draw attention to herself, but it was enough.

The butterflies were gone. Her muscles were relaxed and ready to go and she had a smile on her face that wouldn't go away. She was ready to dance.

A soft voice called for places and Brittany quickly made her way over to her spot with a grin. She faced forward as the curtain lifted.

When it was all over, Rachel was the first one on her feet for the standing ovation and Brittany found a single rose on her bag backstage.

/ /

After the seemingly carefree days of middle and elementary school, McKinley High School hit them like a speeding train.

Brittany was the lead dancer of the Cheerios and best friends with both the captain and the second-in-command (though she still wasn't sure how _that_ many freshman got such important positions, she thinks Coach might have sent the rest to Romania for training or something). She was popular and boys – and a couple girls – fell over themselves to get a smile from her.

Rachel wasn't popular, not by a long shot, but she still got little waves and smiles in the hallways and sometimes Brittany would save a seat in geography since that was the only one Santana wasn't in. Her classes were interesting and Rachel was looking forward to the clubs exhibition; she wanted to join as many as they would let her, maybe even a few more.

Freshman year was _awesome_. Or at least, that was what she thought until _it_ happened.

Rachel had been standing at her locker, struggling under the weight of all her textbooks, trying not to drop any of them. She turned, saw Brittany standing at the other end of the hall and shifted her books to one arm so she could wave. At that moment, three hulking jocks moved in quickly and threw bright red Slushie right in Rachel's face.

All the books fell to the ground as Rachel froze in shock, her mouth open like she wanted to scream but no sound came out.

There was complete silence in the hallway for a couple seconds before the laughter started.

It was slow at the beginning, just the three jocks first, but then random bystanders joined in as Rachel continued to stand there, red ice dripping off her face. Then once Quinn and Santana each let out a giggle, it was fair game and the hallway erupted.

Brittany stood there silently, her eyebrows drawn together in concern, but when both Santana and Quinn turned towards her with expectation in their eyes, something changed. She smiled and let out a laugh.

That laugh cut right through Rachel, stealing the breath straight from her lungs. Her bottom lips started to quiver and she clenched her jaw, unwilling to let tears show when everyone was still staring at her.

Blue eyes met with hers and she lifted her chin slightly. Rachel could see something in those eyes, something begging for understanding, for forgiveness. Brittany trapped by this situation almost as much as Rachel herself. Rachel knew this, but it still hurt far more than she had ever anticipated (and she had thought about the fact that she would most likely lose Brittany eventually).

The laughter continued, pounding against Rachel's hearing and she just couldn't stand to hear any more of it. She tore her gaze away from Brittany's and fled to the nearest girl's bathroom. Rachel didn't want to have to watch Brittany leave with Santana and Quinn, not again.

She stood in front of the mirror, wetting a paper towel to wipe some of the sticky slush off her face when she paused, realizing something.

Brittany wasn't her friend anymore.

She finally let the tears fall.

/ /

The first day of Glee after the Cheerios joined was tense in more ways than most people understood.

Sure, everyone thought it was all a masterplan of Sue's to destroy Glee club, and that was true, but everyone missed a single loaded glance between Rachel and Brittany.

Glee was supposed to be Rachel's safe haven, somewhere she could be exactly who she was and no one was going to throw a slushie in her face or push past her while hurling insults. And yet, standing in front of her were her greatest tormentors. Or, in one case, her only friend from before high school.

Rachel stood in the choir room, feet frozen to the ground when the Cheerios walked in. Against her will, she immediately looked straight at Brittany, her eyes always seemed to want to seek the blonde out. Brittany was staring right back, her face initially the usual blank mask, but then it slipped. She looked incredibly sad and there was a hint of longing in her gaze. Rachel couldn't look away, but their contact was broken when Santana grabbed Brittany's arm and tugged her toward a chair near Quinn.

The hurt was still there, not as fresh and painful as it had once been, but when Rachel thought about how they used to be, an ache appeared in her chest. Rachel understood the social ladder, knew the pressures on Brittany for the girl to stay on top. She understood the reasons for the break of their friendship; she _understood_, had forgiven Brittany for it a long time ago. But Brittany wasn't her friend, even though Rachel had always been Brittany's, ever since that day with the tricky shoelaces.

Brittany glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and Rachel tried to put on one of her trademarked smiles, but just didn't have it in her. Brittany turned away, a frown tugging at the edges of her mouth.

Rachel sighed. Maybe next week would be better.

/ /

Brittany stepped offstage with Mike, unable to wipe the silly grin off her face. _'Valerie'_ had brought the house down and Brittany knew that her dancing had been a big part of that. She squeezed Mike's hand and headed off to find Santana, wanting to congratulate her best friend for her performance.

When she got to the club's dressing room, she was pausing by her bag to grab a water bottle when she spotted something that made her freeze.

Sitting on top of her bag was a single red rose, just like at all of her dance recitals before high school. Carefully, she picked it up and brought it to her face, inhaling that distinctive scent deeply. She closed her eyes and remembered how much it had calmed her nerves when she was younger, knowing that a rose would be waiting for her afterward.

Brittany opened her eyes and looked around, eyes coming to rest on Rachel, who was standing with Finn. Tentatively, unsure of what kind of response she'd get, Brittany waved, just a little wiggle of her fingers. She held the rose tightly to her chest.

Rachel touched Finn's arm and murmured something that made him smile and nod before she walked over to where Brittany was standing. She reached out to softly touch the petals of the rose.

"You were amazing out there, Brittany," Rachel said.

"Thanks, Rach…el," Brittany said, unsure of whether that old nickname was still allowed.

Rachel smiled and stretched up onto her tip toes to kiss Brittany lightly on the cheek. "It's the truth, you're still the best dancer I've ever seen."

Unable to stop herself, Brittany wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry about that time in freshman year and all those times since then. I just didn't know what else to do. Everything was happening so fast."

"I know, Brittany."

"I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay," Rachel paused for a few seconds. "_Stretch_. It's okay now."

"We can be friends again, Rach?"

"I've always been your friend, Stretch."

Brittany nodded and pressed her face into Rachel's shoulder, arms tightening around Rachel's slim waist. Rachel's hands were on her back, pressing lightly against her shoulder blades.

Brittany smiled. She had her friend back.


End file.
